


Colors

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: Long after the end of the series, Starsky and Hutch have an unexpected visitor at their house
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written in response to the Twenty Minute Challenge #3 on the Starsky&Hutch 911 livejournal site and posted on 4/9/2016. The prompt words were "Poppy" and "Quail."
> 
> A/N: RL had been very stressful so I was pleased to learn that my muses were still capable of twenty minutes of sheer frivolity.

Ken Hutchinson opened the front door, revealing a pert, pretty pixy of a woman, who was exuding unbridled enthusiasm.

“Mr. Starsky?” she chortled.

“Uh, no.” Hutch stepped back, nonplussed. “I’m Ken Hutchinson.”

“No matter, no matter.” She sashayed into the cottage. “You name’s on here, too.” She held out a clipboard. “Your friend won the drawing!”

Hutch had no option but to accept the item, putting it down on a side table. “‘The drawing’?”

“A complete home makeover,” she replied, spreading her effusiveness all over the place. “Didn’t they call you?”

“Last evening,” Hutch said. “They mentioned something about a decorator coming by to consult with us.”

“That’s me!” the tiny whirlwind exclaimed. “My name’s Bobette. Oh, this is just so… perfect, I can hardly contain myself!”

She stopped in the middle of the room, dropped her fabric samples and paint chip books and turned several 360 degree circles, her smile growing wider all the time. “Oh!” she said, spinning. “Oh, oh, ohhhhhhhh…” The petite bra-less blonde fluffed her Farrah Fawcett hair and glided around the space seemingly without touching the floor, her tiny hands flying about like barely tethered birds. “Oh, this is so… charming. Oh, oh, we can do so much with this. The light is fabulous, don’t you think?”

She spun and her wide-eyed happiness made Hutch begin to think he’d timed his plan all wrong. Still, there was no turning back now because…

Dave Starsky, stumbled into the room, appearing to have just woken up from a sound sleep. “‘s goin’ on, Hutch?”

The decorator bounded over, her manicured fingers latching onto Starsky’s hand like a leech. “Oh, I just know we’ll all have so much fun, Mr. Starsky!”

Hutch took a deep breath and spread a thunderous look across his face. “Starsky…”

“There’s so much… potential here!” The wee blonde twirled on her toes, spreading her shining smile into every corner. “So much light! So much clarity. That wall…” she pointed to the windowless partition next to the French doors, “would be utterly perfect for our new color, Golden Poppy.” She turned to the speechless pair. “It would pick up and reflect our fabulous Bay City sunsets!” She beamed at them. “Don’t you think?”

Hutch glowered at his mute partner. “Starsky…”

Starsky almost cowered under Hutch’s baleful glare.

“Oh, oh, this is just so… utterly adorable,” Bobette continued. “Soft Quail, I think, in the kitchen. It will go wonderfully well with your avocado appliances. Don’t you think?”

“Starsky,” Hutch snarled, “the next time you enter a home makeover sweepstakes without telling me…”

Starsky hunched his shoulders and put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Nobody ever wins those things, Hutch. You know that.”

“The very next time, Starsky…” Hutch advanced menacingly, “I’ll divorce you.”

“Pomegranate here, I think,” the decorator continued in her inimitable ditzy fashion. “With maybe a hint of Desert Sage.”

“Uh…” Starsky said, hesitantly, “we’re not married.”

Hutch stopped in his tracks, as if startled. “Oh. Well.” He turned away, hiding a smile. “In that case, I’ll just have to take my ring back.”

Starsky’s hand caught his arm and pulled him around. “What ring, Hutch?”

“Uh…” Hutch stalled, knowing he’d taken as much advantage of Starsky’s discomfort as he was going to get away with. He put his hand in his pocket. “Uh…” he repeated, “this one?” He held out a small box.

“Arctic Ice here, I think,” the decorator bubbled, “it will be a perfect compliment to the Sapphire Sky in the bathroom.”

Hutch extended the velvet-covered cube, feeling unsure of himself for the first time in a very long while.

Looking like a little kid on Christmas morning, Starsky took the box and opened it carefully. The plain gold band inside glowed. Starsky snapped the lid closed, clutched the precious item in his hand and threw his arms around Hutch’s neck.

“Oh, yes,” the young woman said, “I think here…”

Hutch was finally able to ignore the mindless patter coming from the other side of the room since his hands, arms and mouth were fully involved with those of his life partner.

“Oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

********

Golden Poppy, Quail,  
Airiness, spaciousness, light  
Love and a gold band

END


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